Moral Relativism
by la lisboa
Summary: Emma tries to comfort Mary Margaret after Cora's death: "All my life, all I ever knew was being good. It's who I was, who my mother raised me to be. If I'm not good, not Snow White, then I don't know who I am anymore." Emma squeezes her hand. "I know who you are." Oneshot, post-ep for 2x16


**Disclaimer:** I own nothing you recognize.

**A/N:** I just can't stop thinking about that episode last night...and the previews for next week just break my heart. This can be read as a post-ep or possible speculation for next episode, although given our track record of actually getting Emma/Mama Snow scenes, we probably won't see this in canon. But hey, what else is fanfiction for?

Obvious spoilers for 2x16 but for the love of god, if you are enough of a Oncer to read fanfiction, why haven't you seen the episode yet?

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Emma hovers outside Mary Margaret's room, unsure if she should enter. David has already tried and been rebuffed more than once. He's now sitting upstairs with Henry, explaining what happened, or as much of it as he can. Henry's still giving her the cold shoulder, only made worse by the fact that she made him hide out with Ruby and Granny during the battle. She knows it was for his own good – fighting Regina and Cora and watching Gold almost die were hard enough without her son there – but Henry's not good at forgiving her these days. All things considered, it's probably best for David to do the talking.

Emma steels herself and then knocks on the door frame, announcing her presence. "Mary Margaret?" Emma waits for a response, but one never comes. She tries again, "Can I get you anything?" She wonders how long it's been since her mother has eaten. Or moved, for that matter. She's curled up on the bed in the fetal position. Unwillingly, Emma thinks back to the last time she saw Mary Margaret like this, the night she had been rejected by David.

She does the same thing she did that night. Emma makes her way slowly toward the bed and sits down. Mary Margaret doesn't say or do anything, and Emma wonders if maybe she's asleep. She reaches out and touches Mary Margaret's shoulder, but her mother flinches and pulls away. "Don't."

Her tone is harsher than Emma has ever heard, and for a moment she wonders if she should just leave. Then the moment passes and she realizes that she can't leave because her mother is shutting everyone out, and she can't let this destroy their family.

"It's me," Emma says softly. "Emma." She sees Mary Margaret sigh, although in relief or resignation she's not sure.

"David sent you?"

"No," Emma replies. "He's upstairs with Henry. I'm here because I wanted to talk to you."

"Why?" Mary Margaret's tone is full of a self-deprecation that Emma's never heard before, and the sound feels like a knife is tearing through her heart.

"I heard about what happened," Emma tries. "And I-"

"Go away," Mary Margaret interrupts her. "I don't want to talk."

Emma bites her lip. "Mary Margaret, please-"

"No, Emma. _Leave_!" The words bring back another painful memory, this time of her mother locked in a jail cell, screaming at her to get out after Emma's latest failed attempt to prove her innocence. Emma knows she left then, but she's stronger now.

"No." She crosses her arms in resolution even though Mary Margaret can't see her. "I'm not going anywhere." She waits for Mary Margaret to respond, but after a moment Emma realizes she won't. Taking advantage of the silence, Emma begins, "You did the right thing. Cora and Regina – they were going to kill us all, _especially _Cora. You weren't there in the shop as she was trying to get through the protective barrier I made with the invisible chalk. She was out for blood. She could have killed me."

"But she didn't," Mary Margaret murmurs.

"But she didn't," Emma confirms. "You stopped her before she got the chance. And even if she hadn't done it today, who's to say she wouldn't have done it tomorrow, or the next day? Ever since we met her in the fairy tale world, she's been nothing but a threat to us, to our family."

"She didn't have to die."

"Maybe she did," Emma whispers back. "Cora was extremely powerful. She could shape-shift, she could rip people's hearts out and use them to manipulate others. There was no way we could have beat her. _And_," Emma presses on, "she had the dagger. And since Mr. Gold was dying, she was planning to stab him and take his power. Just imagine how bad things would have been if she had become the new Dark One. We might as well start digging our own graves now."

"But I _tricked _Regina into killing her own mother." Mary Margaret's voice is full of horror and disgust. "What is _wrong _with me?"

"Nothing," Emma replies firmly. "_Nothing_ is wrong with you. You saved Henry's grandfather, and that's admirable. Look, Cora would never have let you get close enough to her to stick her heart back in her chest. Only Regina could have done that. But Cora still had to die. You did what you had to do. Sometimes people get caught in the cross-fire."

"But she's never going to forgive me." Mary Margaret's voice breaks and Emma feels her own heart breaking along with it. "She's going to hate me for the rest of her life."

Emma chews on her lip, unsure how to respond. She doesn't want to lie to Mary Margaret, but at the same time, she knows there's truth in her mother's words. Regina probably will never forgive her. Emma's stomach twists at the thought. Despite the fact that Cora had to die, Mary Margaret's actions may have put them all in even more danger than before.

"It's going to be okay," Emma says finally. "We will protect you. Everyone is going to be on your side about this. Everyone knows how dangerous Cora was. And Mr. Gold isn't going to turn against you. You just saved his life."

"I don't deserve this." Mary Margaret sounds utterly broken. "I don't deserve your protection. I did a horrible thing. How can I say I'm on the side of good when I just proved I'm no better than them?"

"You are better," Emma replies fiercely. "Think of everything they've done and why. Out of some misplaced sense of vengeance? Or maybe just for power and control? Think of all the people they've killed. It's just senseless violence. That's totally different than what you did. You acted in self-defense – Cora could have killed us and who knows how many others. _And _you saved Mr. Gold."

"And do you know how much I hate myself for that?" Even though she can't see her face, Emma can imagine the tears running down her cheeks. She thinks about reaching out, but holds back, remembering how Mary Margaret had recoiled from her touch earlier. "I'd seen that candle before, when I was a girl. Cora disguised herself as the Blue Fairy and offered it to me, told me what I had to do to save my mother's life. But even as my own mother lay dying, I couldn't use dark magic to save her. I didn't know how to choose whose life to sacrifice for hers. And now, I get the same candle back again, and I use it to save Mr. Gold, of all people? How can I live with myself?"

"But that situation was different," Emma reminds her gently. "You didn't know anyone who deserved to die. But this time, you did."

"My mother would hate me," Mary Margaret whispers. "If she could see me now – if she knew I did this…" She draws a shaky breath. "Ever since I lost my mother, I've been holding on to whatever I can. And this – my ability to resist dark magic – that was the last piece. And now I've lost that, too."

Emma reaches out again, and this time her hand makes it to Mary Margaret's shoulder. She waits a moment for Mary Margaret to pull back, but she never does. Emma squeezes her shoulder.

"I was mad at you for so long," Emma begins, and she can feel the tears in her eyes. "For sending me through that wardrobe alone. But you sent me alone to an unknown world when I was just a baby because you knew it was the right thing to do. It wasn't a good decision, but it was _right._ Sometimes there are no good choices. But you still made the right one." Emma pauses, collecting herself. This is the first time she's voiced these realizations aloud.

Suddenly Mary Margaret startles her by grabbing her hand and squeezing back. "I'm so sorry, Emma." Emma can feel her mother's body shaking with silent sobs.

"Don't apologize for doing the right thing," Emma tells her. "Then, or now."

Mary Margaret finally turns around and faces her. Emma sees her eyes are puffy, her cheeks streaked with tears. She waits for Mary Margaret to speak. At last she says, "All my life, all I ever knew was being good. It's who I was, who my mother raised me to be. If I'm not good, not Snow White, then I don't know who I am anymore."

Emma squeezes her hand. "_I _know who you are. You're a fighter and you're a survivor. You got us out of fairy tale land alive and you fought off ogres, and Cora, and Hook to do it. You're brave and not afraid to make impossible choices. You're admirable." Emma sees the tears leaking out of the corners of Mary Margaret's eyes, but can't stop herself from adding, "And you're my mother."

Finally, a smile – sad and pained, but a smile nonetheless. "I just feel like I've let everyone down," Mary Margaret whispers. "David can't even look at me. This isn't who I am. He tried to tell me that so many times, and I just refused to listen. I'd just found out that Cora had murdered my mother – and then she murdered my nurse right in front of me – I wasn't thinking clearly. I didn't kill for justice, I killed for vengeance."

"Aren't those just two sides of the same coin?" Emma reasons.

"Even so," she presses on. "I've shown that I'm no better than they are. Regina's gone after me for decades because of what happened to Daniel. This whole curse was about vengeance, but in her mind it's justice. When will it end?"

Emma sighs. "Probably not any time soon. But you _are _better than they are, I'm sure of it."

"How do you know?"

In that moment, Mary Margaret looks so fragile, as though her entire world depends on Emma's answer. Emma takes her hand from Mary Margaret's and wraps her arms around her. She gives her mother a moment to pull away, but then Mary Margaret turns toward her, burying her head in Emma's neck.

Emma rests her head against her mother's as she whispers, "Because you feel like this."

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**A/N:** I hope you enjoyed. I'd love a review! Come on, what else are you going to do while you're counting down the hours til Sunday's episode?


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